


you won't like me when I'm angry

by hellhoundsprey



Series: ficlet prompts [28]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Ass to Mouth, Barebacking, Bottom Alexander, Cosplay, Established Relationship, Gun Kink, Handcuffs, M/M, Object Insertion, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, Top Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: Prompt: redhood!jensen / criminal!alex + dubcon, gun kinkThis went cosplay and sweet bc Alexander deserves healthy, good things.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Alexander Calvert
Series: ficlet prompts [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/478657
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	you won't like me when I'm angry

**Author's Note:**

> "Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings" = This is safe pre-discussed roleplay but it still reads as rape. Please mind the tags!

“Have you done this before?”

Jensen’s tone is the tone of someone who’s had to repeat himself, and Alex half-blinks; tries to open his mouth and reply.

It’s surprisingly difficult to gather the mental strength for, “Uh, what?”

The gun barrel slips down to his jaw, towards his chin and back to his temple.

Behind the solid red mask, Jensen’s face is even less readable than usual.

Mused, “Maybe you’re too young,” and there’s the wall in Alex’s back when he leans accordingly, away from Jensen crowding in on him further, and his wrists kinda hurt with how tight Jensen’s snapped the cuffs and fuck, fuck, he’s either gonna piss himself or cream his pants.

If he’s lucky: both.

The gun slips into the paralyzed gape of Alex’s mouth, and above him, Jensen seemingly watches how easy Alex gets his teeth out of the way.

A smug scoff. “Maybe not.”

Alex huffs through his nose. His stomach turns for the gun pushing deep, over his tongue, into the back of his throat. He gags, once, helpless, off-guard for how cold and solid it is—he’s gonna cry.

Jensen croons, “That’s the spirit,” and Alex hollows his cheeks, muffled and unwilling and his eyes tear up for real for Red Hood unzipping his pants, getting himself out, stroking his cock right in front of his face. “I prefer my holes without teeth, though. I’m sure you understand.” The gun retreats. “Get up.”

Alex begins, “Please,” but gets knocked over his head with the toy and it fucking _hurts_ , hurts more than he expected and he grunts, surprised. Stunned enough that he doesn’t struggle against the grip in his hair.

Jensen tosses him onto the bed, stomach-down.

Again, gasped, “Wait,” but Jensen’s already stepping between his legs, forces Alex’s thighs wide and Alex’s cock throbs sore and hard against the inside of his zipper because shit, holy shit.

Jeans aren’t supposed to be torn open this easily.

Alex’s boyfriend is just that amazing.

Whimpered, “Ohmygod,” and he’s crying for real, for the horror and love and he shivers all the way to his fucking eyelashes with the press of the gun between his ass cheeks, right up against his hole and he surges, can’t go anywhere, not with Jensen looming above him, one hand braced on the bed and the other rocking the gun, and, shit, oh, _shit_.

“A little preview of how prison’s gonna treat you, kid. Shouldn’t have let yourself get caught.”

Alex is fucking _drooling_. “Please, please…!”

Up against his ear, and he can smell the cheap plastic of the mask, Jensen’s two-hundred-bucks cologne. “Stop that. You’ll make my finger slip.”

Alex stills, ebbs with held-back sobs. Hears the cap of the nearby bottle of lube and whimpers, once, for the cold press of the toy into his ass.

Hears Jensen’s honest, tender, “Jesus.”

Alex can’t think. Wills himself as still as possible while Jensen regathers himself, slips back into character. Bows down to get close to Alex’s ear again, pushes the gun deeper up his ass.

“Don’t. Move.”

Alex doesn’t.

Jensen shifts the gun. Twists it inside of him, slicks him up good. It’s loud when he fucks him quick and quicker, uncaring.

“Fuck yeah.”

The weight makes the toy feel so fucking real. Like it’s really—like this is really—

“You like this, don’t you?”

“No—”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Alex whines. Attempts to thrash, fight Red Hood off once he’s pulled the gun out of his ass, but it doesn’t get him far.

He whimpers, “Not bare,” while Jensen’s already sinking it in, hot and raw and his nuts pull tight, “please, that, don’t—”

The gun pushes back into his mouth, nasty and body-warm, and Alex clenches all over for Jensen’s strict, “What did I just say, huh?” and him grinding himself home all the way, and Alex struggles, and his toes curl inside of his boots, and he splutters and tries to adjust, to stop moving altogether, all of it.

Gurgles metal-and-mattress muffled for the first snap of Jensen’s hips, for how harsh it pushes him into the bed. For how fucking big Jensen’s cock feels inside of him, despite the excessive amount of lube, and Alex gags again for the taste of himself and the lube and Red Hood grunts, “Should’ve thought of that before pointing this fucking thing at that poor cashier,” and sets up an immediate, rough speed.

Alex’s legs are parted enough that combined with his behind-his-back crossed arms, he can’t get any leverage, can’t work himself against the sheets or anything. Can just lie here and take it, make himself soft and available so Red Hood can rut into him as he likes. Swallows around the gun barrel and groans, off-beat; deep.

He’s gonna come from this. Just this. Having his ass ridden hard and fast without any contemplation about whether or not he enjoys it.

Red Hood growls dark and deep. Gets his free hand to grab at the belt still intact in Alex’s pants, uses that to haul him back, makes him meet his thrusts without his say-so. Alex sobs, wet.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s fucking it…!”

He has no idea if Jensen can feel it—him, coming. Clenching like crazy and his jeans are way less rough now, creamed up so well and it’s too much, but he can’t stop the involuntary stimulation and he whimpers anew, sweating and tense and Red Hood tells him,

“That’s what you deserve,”

nonsensical but he blows too, then, and Alex thinks to sob, to slur out a weak, “No,” around the gun, and Jensen laughs,

“Oh, _yeah_ ,”

and grinds deep, in place. Fills him up good, and Alex shivers, and his hands clench where they’re bound in the small of his back.

“Shame I’ll have to hand you off to the cops,” rough around the edges and Jensen’s still keeping the gun in Alex’s mouth, still works his load deeper into his guts. “You’re not half as useless as I thought you’d be.”

Alex coughs once the gun is out of his mouth. Groans uninhibited and turns his face into the sheets.

Red Hood attempts to force the gun inside next to his cock; slaps Alex’s ass when he complains. Keeps slapping it when it won’t work and he gets frustrated. Rips the hole in Alex’s pants wider so he can get at bare skin; the harsh edges of his gloves cut in nicely and Alex is wailing anew in no time whatsoever. Sobs, broken, when the relief of Jensen pulling out is replaced by the gun pushing into him anew.

Jensen rocks the thing down into his prostate with laser-focused precision. Keeps bringing his flat hand down over Alex’s single bare ass cheek and barks at him to keep his legs open, don’t fucking fight me. Alex doesn’t. Comes again and goes fucking blind with it, trembles head to toe while Red Hood praises,

“That’s it, that’s all you’re good for, you fucking piece of shit,”

and Alex goes boneless when it’s over. Doesn’t fight the final two slaps because he trusts, and yeah, Jensen’s efforts cease and he withdraws, bit by bit. The gun, first; the handcuffs after.

Gentle thumbs massage at Alex’s wrists. He notices that much under the general throb of—well, every inch of his body.

Jensen’s voice, close, rough: “Okay?”

Alex slurs, “Fuck yeah,” and hears Jensen chuckling, the echo of it behind the mask.


End file.
